


Indignity

by Schadenfreudah



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfreudah/pseuds/Schadenfreudah
Summary: It was an unremarkable summer night when Ryou Bakura, completely unprovoked, woke up to a strange feeling coagulating in the pit of his stomach.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	Indignity

It was an unremarkable summer night when Ryou Bakura, completely unprovoked, woke up to a strange feeling coagulating in the pit of his stomach.

Sleepily, he kicked back the tangle of blankets and sheets, pushing himself up onto his elbows. His eyes were still bleary when, his body freed from the layers he’d been wrapped in, he looked down into his lap.

“Oh,” he exhaled.

He wasn’t a child. He knew what it meant—it wasn't as if he’d never experienced it personally before, and he’d heard about it plenty of times before from the other boys in his class. But for the first time in his life, the feeling carried with it a sense of urgency that simmered in his gut. This time, it seemed to demand his attention.

Ryou bit his lip. He had always found touching himself too shameful to experiment with on his own, and the stuff his classmates talked about during lunch hour never made it sound any more appealing. He had no interest in the women splayed out in seductive positions across the magazines they smuggled into class in their bags. Instead, in the past he’d simply waited it out, squirming at the uncomfortable sensation before it went away on its own in due time.

As if reminding him of its existence, his cock gave another weak throb, sending a shiver through his body. Clearly, that solution wasn’t going to cut it this time. No, he needed more; he needed any kind of friction that could soothe the feeling and _make_ it go away.

Which meant there was only one thing to do, really.

Ryou swallowed nervously. Teeth digging into his bottom lip, he let his hands wander down to the front of his boxers, and gave a hesitant rub over his small bulge.

Immediately, he let out a shaky, surprised sigh. It felt good—touching it. It felt _really_ good. The more he rubbed, the more the feeling in his stomach churned. More little breaths escaped his lips, and his hips started to push up into the soft press of his hand as his movements picked up speed.

He was starting to see what all the fuss was about. No wonder all the boys did this—it was amazing, despite how embarrassed Ryou was. Little moans rose unbidden from his lips, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, shame building in his stomach as his hands jerked quicker and quicker to push him to his climax.

In the thick haze of pleasure, he managed to push down his underwear so his cock was rutting up against bare skin. It was even better that way—his hand was wet with a sticky liquid as his fingers swiped frantically over the swollen tip of his cock. He could feel himself getting close, in the way his belly was tightening. It would only require a little more—

“Now that’s just embarrassing, landlord,” came a derisive voice from right beside him, purring in his ear.

Ryou let out a strangled yelp, his hands immediately flying off his swollen cock to tug the sheets back over his body. “Don’t look!”

The spirit of the Millennium Ring—Bakura—was sitting behind him on the bed, leaning over his shoulder. His lip was curled over in amusement as he stared into Ryou’s lap, where his host’s hands were attempting to shield his sensitive bits from his probing gaze. It was so unnerving seeing mirrors of Ryou’s own eyes examining his body like that; they looked so much alike when he assumed this form, the shape of him only twisted to account for the spirit’s natural features. Broader, taller, and sharper—he looked like he had more life experience, as if he were a university student or something. Even when inhabiting Ryou fully he was obviously much older than a first year.

“I already saw,” said Bakura, rolling his eyes. “And don’t be such a prude. It’s not like we would’ve been able to avoid this forever. Sooner or later I would’ve seen.”

Cheeks hot, Ryou curled in on himself even more. He didn’t like being reminded that Bakura had access to his body whenever he liked. It didn’t help that his neglected cock was aching between his thighs, which he was sure Bakura was aware of—he knew everything Ryou was thinking, after all.

“But I have to say,” the spirit continued when he didn’t reply. “I didn’t expect it to look quite so pathetic. I’m almost disappointed, though I can’t say my expectations were high.”

Everything was still all woozy—he was struggling to focus on the spirit’s words, his brain fogged up with arousal. Still, Ryou turned his head slightly to look up into Bakura’s leering face. “What’s so pathetic?” he mumbled, his brows knotting together on his forehead.

Bakura chuckled. “Your little cock,” he jeered, his breath hot against the shell of Ryou’s ear. “If I could even call it that—it’s just so _small_. Are you sure you’re already fifteen?”

“You know I am,” replied Ryou, lips twisting into a frown as he let his eyes drop to where his hands were fisted in the blanket. He had to put up a little resistance—he knew the spirit well enough by now to realize that if he simply went along with whatever he said, he’d soon be in way over his head.

The spirit let out a hum, the vibration against his skin making Ryou’s cock twitch in interest. He bit his lip, squeezing his thighs together even tighter, and waited for Bakura to continue. Another second passed, but Bakura didn’t speak.

He was biding his time, Ryou realized, waiting for _him_ to break first.

Truthfully, he already knew he was far too curious to resist playing into the spirit’s hands. He’d only ever seen his own—Ryou had never bathed with his father when he was young enough to do that due to his frequent international travels, and it wasn’t as if he had any male friends of his age to talk with about it now that he was older. His classmates at school still avoided him; they were all scared stiff of him, worried that he’d put them in a coma. Combined with his overwhelming lack of interest in pornography, he’d had no opportunity to determine how he measured up.

Ryou, annoyed both with himself and with the spirit’s uncanny ability to lead him along, finally relented and blurted out, “So it’s supposed to be bigger?”

The spirit’s tapered fingers brushed over the thin line of Ryou’s collarbone peeking out from under his pajama top. “Much bigger,” he answered. He was so close his lips were nearly touching Ryou’s skin. “Real men are double that size, sometimes even more than that. Yours doesn’t even look like a cock at all, really.”

Ryou gulped, his tongue unconsciously sweeping across the swell of his lower lip. He knew the spirit was baiting him—he _knew_ —and yet, he breathed out anyways, “What does a real one look like, then?”

He hardly knew what he was saying; the words tumbled from his mouth before he could properly think them through. But there was a curiosity simmering in the base of his throat, that curled in his belly and made the ache between his thighs even stronger. He _wanted_ to see—wanted to know whether the spirit was telling the truth or not, to figure it out firsthand.

Bakura cocked a brow in amusement. “I’m shocked, landlord—I didn’t expect you to be nearly so bold,” he murmured, his hand now resting on Ryou’s flat chest, fingers sliding over where his nipple was hardening beneath his shirt.

There was a pause. Bakura was still behind him, stroking Ryou’s skin as if in deep thought. He showed no signs of moving.

Ryou turned his head and met the spirit’s gaze with half-lidded, hazy eyes. “Are you going to show me, or not?”

He felt—older, suddenly, emboldened by Bakura's obvious interest. More mature. The confident words had risen naturally to his lips, and though he could feel his cheeks flushing under scrutiny, he didn’t falter or attempt to qualify what he had said.

The spirit grinned, his long, sharp teeth bared. “Get on your knees,” he said, and pulled his hand back.

Not needing any further encouragement, Ryou rose unsteadily up from the bed and slid to the ground. His heart was pounding in his chest; everything felt too hot, from his face to his aching cock. And yet the feeling wasn’t unpleasant—rather, it was exciting. Anticipatory.

Bakura laughed. “I knew you’d behave like this,” he said, shifting so that Ryou was properly situated between his legs. “You were practically born this way—programmed to follow someone else’s orders. You _like_ being told what to do, it’s obvious.”

Ryou thought the spirit must have really loved hearing his own voice, with how much he prattled on. Still, it held a soothing timbre to it somewhere in its high, rough lilt, and it made his cheeks go hotter, annoyance the furthest thing from his mind as he waited obediently for Bakura to continue.

The spirit’s slim fingers fiddled with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them down just far enough that his fly was hanging open. Then, so quick that Ryou hardly had time to prepare, Bakura was reaching into his boxers.

“ _That’s_ what a real man looks like.”

Ryou barely heard the spirit’s mocking words—his pulse was racing out of control, his chest tight with excitement, as he stared at the hard cock suddenly bobbing right in front of his face.

The first thing that came to mind was that the spirit hadn’t been lying.

His cock was a lot bigger than Ryou’s—and much thicker, too, probably about as much as Ryou could wrap his hand around. It curved slightly upwards towards the head, which was already sticky, on the verge of dripping onto Ryou’s nose. There was a thatch of white hair at its base— _was Ryou supposed to have that much hair?—_ and a vein that ran up the length of it, that seemed as if it were pulsing beneath his intent gaze.

Ryou swallowed. His thighs were clenched tightly together, his own long-neglected cock so hard it hurt. He _wanted—_ he didn’t even know what he wanted, couldn’t make sense of the mush of feelings in his head. Finally, he managed, “That’s more than double.”

The spirit shrugged, resting back on his elbows. “I never said _I_ fit those parameters.”

“Semantics,” mumbled Ryou, vaguely, his eyes fixed on the bead of moisture gathered at the tip of the spirit’s cock.

He was so _hard_. When had Bakura gotten so aroused? Had he been waiting for this since he’d noticed Ryou curled up in his bed, moaning into the pillow? Had he planned for them to end up like this—for Ryou to be on his knees, transfixed, utterly captivated?

It was that thought which spurred him into action. Hands splayed out on the ground, keeping him steady, Ryou leaned slightly forward and gave the head of the spirit’s cock an experimental lick.

Letting out a surprised hiss, Bakura’s hands plunged into Ryou’s hair and threaded themselves in its tangles. Even in the darkness, peering up into the spirit’s face from his position on the floor, Ryou could see the twin gleam of his red eyes.

“I never knew you were a whore,” he said, his mouth twisted into a crude smile. “You continue to surprise me.”

Shame roiled in his gut, but Ryou only licked the shaft again again, his tongue dragging from the cock’s base to its head, then lapping up the liquid that dripped from its tip. It was slightly sour, but not in a bad way—his nose scrunched up as he tried to process the strange taste, before he decided that further research would be required before he made up his mind.

Bakura was silent, his hands lax, letting Ryou explore at his own pace. Ryou felt confident enough in the spirit’s trust to pull away, letting his soft cheek rub against the spirit’s cock. It was hot and wet, and the fluid dribbled onto his face, wetting his skin. The sensation was weird; Ryou did it again, giggling under his breath when it twitched against his slow movements.

“Landlord,” the spirit warned, his voice slightly hoarse. “Don’t tease.”

He was growing impatient, Ryou could tell. His own cock throbbed in sympathy—it would be cruel to torture him with such fleeting touches for much longer. He had no long-term plan, really, but for now… doing what he’d done to himself was a good enough step. He would just have to work at it a little harder.

“I know,” said Ryou, and he reached out to grasp the spirit’s length in his hand.

From above, there came a choked sigh. Ryou started to slide his palm up and down the length of Bakura’s cock, adding his second hand after a few moments when it was clear just one wasn’t enough. He fell into an easy rhythm, his fingers swiping over the head when he reached the top. The shaft was soft under his palms, almost velvety—he wanted to lick it again, to taste it just one more time. But the spirit liked what he was doing; Ryou could tell from the way his cock pulsed under his palm, from the quickness of his breath. There was something pleasing about that, about knowing exactly what Bakura was thinking. He was usually so opaque, his thoughts completely out of reach.

Here—even though he was on the floor, serving the spirit—Ryou relished a newfound sense of power over him.

“I can hear that,” Bakura breathed out through gritted teeth.

Ryou pulled back, letting his hands rest on the spirit’s knees, and licked a long stripe over the head of his cock. “Good,” he said, and smiled, gazing up at him from under his thick lashes.

Bakura paused for a moment, and their eyes met. Something passed between them—Ryou shivered under the weight of his gaze—before he let out an annoyed grunt and pushed Ryou’s head back down, his grip tightening on his hair. “Just keep going,” he said, thrusting up slightly so his cock rubbed up against Ryou’s lips.

The careless movement gave Ryou an idea. Letting his mouth drop open, he slid the head of the spirit’s cock inside, suckling on it. His tongue swept over its top, and he savored the way Bakura’s knees shuddered beneath his palms in response. Encouraged, he slid his lips down the spirit’s shaft, taking in a few inches. His throat resisted; he tried not to gag, breathing through his nose as much as was possible. It hadn’t felt so large in his hand, but now in his mouth he appreciated just how much bigger Bakura’s cock really was than his own. He’d only managed about half so far, and already the thought of taking in any more seemed impossible.

The vein throbbed under his tongue at that, the spirit’s hands unconsciously tugging at the clump of hair caught in their grasp. “Not impossible,” he corrected, his voice thick. “If you let me help you…”

Eyes watering, Ryou finally pulled off, letting the spirit’s pulsing cock rest against his cheek again. “Help me?” he inquired, curious. He sounded like a wreck already; his throat was sore and his jaw ached, even from the minimal work he’d put in. The thought of doing more made him squirm, titillated, his cock somehow still hard between his thighs. He didn’t know why touching Bakura excited him so much, but the feel of his shaft under his hands, in his mouth, made his swollen tip leak in his boxers, wetting their front.

Bakura grinned, smug. “Your part is easy,” he said, as if trying to reassure him. “All you have to do is sit back and try not to pass out.”

Uninterested in waiting for Ryou’s response, the spirit dragged him forward by his hair, easing his cock back into Ryou’s mouth. At first, it was slow—inch by inch, he coaxed his shaft inside, concentrating fully on what he was doing. It didn’t seem so bad; surely, something like this was manageable even for someone as inexperienced as Ryou. And then, suddenly, Bakura shoved himself deeper inside. Ryou choked, but the spirit didn’t stop—instead, his hips bucked up into Ryou’s mouth, his cock buried deep in his throat.

And it _burned_.

Ryou’s throat protested with every brutal thrust, closing around Bakura’s shaft; his jaw stung terribly; fat, hot tears dripped from his eyes down his flushed cheeks. His nose was nestled into the white hair at the base of the spirit’s cock—faintly, he realized that Bakura had managed to push the entire thing down his small throat.

“Shit, that’s good,” the spirit exhaled, jerking his hips up into his host’s mouth. “You’re sucking my cock like a fucking girl, for fuck’s sake—touch your little clit, landlord, go on.”

Unable to help himself any longer, and encouraged by the spirit’s instructions, Ryou managed to shove his fingers from where they were digging into his thigh past his boxers and wrapped them around his small cock. With every one of Bakura’s thrusts, Ryou’s hips slid, his leaking head rubbing against his slick palm. He could feel it coming on—it was so _hot_ , so overwhelming, so—so—

“That’s it, just like that—you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

_A good girl?_

Ryou’s body seized up, his belly alight with heat, his skin buzzing, and he moaned around Bakura’s cock, eyes squeezed shut. Relieved tears rolled down his cheeks when his stiff, swollen cock gave one final twitch, and then he was coming into his hand at last, coating his fingers in his sticky, built-up release. It felt _so good_ —finally letting go, giving into the feeling he’d been resisting. His mind was fuzzy and warm, aftershocks still vibrating in the tips of his fingers as he came down from his high. The weight of Bakura’s cock in his mouth grounded him in reality.

“What the fuck,” Bakura hissed, his eyes fixed on where Ryou’s cock was squirting onto his hands, the steady pump of his hips stuttering.“I—ngh—I didn’t even need to touch you…!”

Then, without any warning, a bitter liquid was blurting out from the head of Bakura’s cock down Ryou’s throat. It tasted gross—his throat resisted, his face screwing up in displeasure.

“Don’t pull off,” Bakura muttered, his hands still clamped in Ryou’s hair. “Drink it all…”

The taste was still making him gag, but he swallowed obediently, his wide, watery eyes staring up into Bakura’s face. When he’d drunk it all down, he let the softening cock slide out of his mouth with a quiet pop, and rested his head on the sharp knob of Bakura’s jean-clad knee.

While Bakura fiddled with the zipper of his jeans, Ryou stayed there for a moment, his chest rising with steady breaths, until he’d regained enough energy to move. He stood on wobbly, unstable legs, and crawled back into the bed. He was so tired—he couldn’t process anything that had happened, and he didn’t want to, either. All he wanted was to seek refuge under the blankets and try to fall back asleep.

The only noise that filled the room for some time after that was the quiet huff of their breathing, mingling together in the still air. The spirit’s thumb stroked over his pulse point; the sensation made him smile. There was something so warm, so gentle about the motion—it reminded him of being sick as a child, of his mother’s reassuring touch when he’d been stuck in bed with a fever. It was nice.

“I’m definitely not your mother,” Bakura snorted, the trajectory of his fingers halting. “So you can forget about that.”

“Not what I meant,” Ryou protested, his mouth twisted in a feeble frown, but he was too exhausted to give the words any real weight.

The spirit laughed. “I know,” he said. Then, he pulled Ryou into his side, wrapping his arms around his slender waist so he was anchored there. “Now shut up and go to sleep. I’m not going to let you stay in tomorrow.”

Ryou let out a discontented sigh, but he curled up into Bakura anyways, his face half buried in his shirt. It was so warm sleeping beside him, like this—the body heat bled from the spirit’s chest to his own, enveloping him in warmth.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, the words muffled by the cotton of Bakura’s shirt. “For staying.”

Bakura’s hand squeezed his waist, just once. It wasn’t harsh, or painful—rather, it felt like an acknowledgement.

Ryou’s eyes drooped shut, a lazy smile still lingering on his lips, and then, as quickly if he had never woken up at all, he was asleep


End file.
